What Michael Copperman’s Fishing Lessons Reveal About Life Will Surprise You
“It’s the only way. And you better hold that boy’s hand.”
Uncle Bill went to my aunt, whispered something in her ear, and she gasped out something that sounded like “No,” or “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what.
Uncle Bill came back to me. “You’ve got to be brave,” he said, though he was looking off somewhere over the water, and didn’t seem to be speaking to me.
The Forest Serviceman came over, a pair of needle nose pliers in his hands. “You can do this, son. It’s going to hurt—we have to bring the hook back through, to clip the barb. Then we can pull it back out. You can’t move your hand.”
